


Team Effort

by darthenna



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly Gen, OC, Protective Teammates, Spanish National Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthenna/pseuds/darthenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spanish NT goes to a bar after a match. Fernando wanders a little too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Effort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at footballkink2.

**Fernando** wasn’t in the mood for going out. He’d played only fifteen minutes at Vicente Calderon after five years and they had conceded a goal in the last minute. He really wanted to stay in his hotel room and have a rest before his flight to London, but try to explain that to Pepe and Sergio who practically dragged him out promising they would go to a quiet pub in a corner of Madrid. Fernando highly doubted the corner they chose was a right place to go but Sergio shushed him with a wave of his hand. 

“You don’t know Madrid like I know it, Niño,” he said. 

Excuse me? You’ve been living in Madrid for what - seven years? Fernando has lived here whole twenty three. But the boos and whistles from his other teammates and “stop killing the mood, Nando, we’re not having sex” from David Villa made Fernando fell silent. He rolled his eyes mumbling that it was Villa who always killed the mood, not like Fernando had ever slept with him and blushed furiously when all the guys unanimously burst out laughing. 

“Oh, Niño,” Alvaro said ruffling his hair “Let’s go have some fun.” 

Fernando sighed and decided to obey the majority. 

 

 **Sergio** was greatly enjoying himself. The club was all right, the music was great and he alternated between drinking and dancing and teasing Iker who was trying to behave like the serious and responsible captain he was. He smiled smugly making a mental note to mock Nando later about his stupid London rock and roll clubs. Speaking of him where the hell was he? Sergio was sure he had seen him talking with Xabi five minutes ago or maybe fifteen or half an hour. But now he couldn’t find him. Among the general noise he somehow heard his phone’s ringtone. _Fernando Torres calling._ Sergio snorted. The idiot probably wanted to sneak back to the hotel and got lost. Ha-ha, and he still dared to tell Sergio he knew Madrid better. 

“Hello,” Sergio drawled expecting to hear Fernando’s apologetic voice. But instead he heard some strange noises, voices he didn’t recognize and finally Nando’s familiar and very frightened tone. 

“Nando, it’s not funny,” Sergio said hoping it was some kind of a prank, though Fernando had never been a prankster. Then he heard someone shouting and dial tone. Well, what the hell had that been? 

 

 **Fernando** had to admit the club wasn’t half bad. Sure, nothing like the clubs in London, but still good enough. But the problem was that he couldn’t hear a thing when his wife called and he really wanted to talk to her and to the kids. He took his phone and told Xabi he was going out. 

After he had said goodbye to his wife and kids he turned back to the club. It was pretty dark. Fernando wasn’t wrong when he doubted his friends’ choice: this was definitely not the most prestigious part of the city. He had gone far enough from the club while he was on the phone, so he hurried to get back. He was concentrated on looking under his feet not to fall down in the dark when he bumped into someone. 

“Sorry,” Fernando said and wanted to continue walking, when he was pulled back by the arm. 

“Watch where you’re going, dimwit,” he heard a rough voice. 

Fernando looked around. There were a few guys standing next to him. 

“I said sorry,” Fernando said pointedly and shook his arm free. 

He didn’t manage to take even a step when one of the men pushed him. His back slumped on the wall painfully and he felt a few pairs of arms pin him there. 

“What are you doing?” Fernando tried to protest, “Let me go.” 

One of the men took him by the chin. His face was at just a few centimeters distance from Fernando’s and he felt the stench of alcohol coming from him. 

“Easy, pretty boy,” he said. 

A hand crept under Fernando’s shirt and started caressing his chest, pinching slightly his nipples. He didn’t manage to stifle a whimper, which amused the men greatly and they burst out laughing making Fernando shiver. Using their temporary distraction Fernando slid his hand into his pocket and pushed the speed dial key for Sergio’s number. 

“You can take my wallet, but let me go,” he asked hoping he’d said it loudly enough for Sergio to listen and understand. 

Suddenly he felt another hand in his pocket. 

"What the fuck is this?" someone shouted and then his phone was pulled out. 

The man who’d spoken to him before looked at him and grinned. “It was a wrong move, pretty boy, very wrong,” he said. 

Fernando gulped. 

 

 **Xabi** was sitting in one corner sipping his drink and watching the dancers. He almost scowled when he saw Sergio approaching him. He liked being on his own from time to time, especially in places like this, and knowing Sergio he was probably going to say something stupid. But he looked very worried and that surprised Xabi. 

“Xab, have you seen Nando?” he asked as soon as he was within the range of hearing. 

“He went out to talk to Olalla,” Xabi answered. 

“It’s just that I got a very strange call from him two minutes ago. Didn’t make out the words, but sounded like he was in trouble.” 

Xabi listened carefully to the whole story and though he generally tended to believe that Sergio was always exaggerating, this time what he said truly made him worry. “Have you tried to call him back?” he asked. 

“Of course, I’m not stupid,” Sergio said indignantly, “He doesn’t pick up. What should we do, Xabi?” 

“Not to panic,” Xabi answered calmly, though he had an uneasy feeling in his stomach himself, “Go look for him in the bathrooms and anywhere else in the club, maybe he's already come back. I’ll try to ask the others if they’ve seen him. If we don’t find him, we’ll go to look for him outside.” 

 

 **Fernando** was breathing fast. He was seriously scared. He didn’t know whether Sergio had heard him or would know where to find him. 

“You look fine,” he heard a voice, then someone sniffed his neck, “And smell fine too. I think you’ll be a good fuck.” 

What? Fernando’s eyes became wide as saucers. He trashed violently trying to get free swearing and snarling, but then felt a sharp tug at his hair and merciless hands squeezing his flesh, another hand closed his mouth. 

“Easy I said,” he heard a hiss in his ear, “You scream like a girl. Though I might like it when I’m fucking you.” 

Fernando shook his head desperately, pleading with his eyes. The hand returned under his shirt, then suddenly went down. The other hand covering his mouth moved and someone’s lips crushed on his. Fernando felt his tongue reeking with alcohol in his mouth. He trashed and kicked. Seemed like he hit someone because he heard a hiss of pain and swearing. He didn’t manage to feel satisfaction, when a mighty blow on his solar plexus brought him down to his knees. 

While he was gasping for breath, he felt something cold press to his throat. 

“Listen here, pretty boy,” he heard the same disgusting voice, “You do what we say or I’ll slit your beautiful throat. Got it?” 

Fernando didn’t answer. The man pressed the knife harder. “I said got it?” 

“Yes,” Fernando whispered. 

 

 **Iker** knew that as a captain he was responsible for his players. Of course they were off the pitch, but he still blamed himself if something happened to his teammates. And this was the case. They were already sure that something had happened, because Fernando wasn’t picking up the phone and wasn’t anywhere in the club. No one had seen him enter after he’d gone out to talk to his wife. Iker still had a hope that all this was just a horrible joke, that it was Fernando’s twisted idea of revenge for dragging him to the club, but he knew that he would have never gone that far. 

When Pedro went back and confirmed that he wasn’t in the staff room, Iker made up his mind. “We’re going out to look for him,” he said, “We won’t come back without him. Stick together and be careful. We’ll find him”. 

 

 **Fernando** was shaking from cold and fear. He was still kneeling on the pavement. They had taken off his jacket and now were arguing about what they were going to do to him. He had lost any hope that the guys would find him. The voices suddenly stopped and one of the men pushed Fernando on his hands and knees. Under the loud cheering of his friends he started to cut off Fernando’s shirt with his knife slowly, making Fernando squirm, enjoying every drop of his fear. He ripped off the remnants of his shirt leaving Fernando exposed to the cold October night. He took a step back and whistled looking at Fernando’s body. 

“We’re going to take our time with you, pretty boy,” he sneered, “You deserve it.” 

He pushed his fingers past Fernando’s lips. “Suck on these until I replace them with my cock,” he chuckled. 

Fernando made a pathetic little noise in his throat and blushed violently, embarrassed by it, but the knife was still on his throat, so he sucked obediently. Another man undid his belt and lowered his pants to his knees. Fernando barely held back the tears of humiliation, when under the unanimous “oooh” sound of the group someone smacked him across the cheek. Other blows followed the first amidst the jeers and laughter of the drunkards and soon tears started running down Fernando’s face. His ass burnt but Fernando was used to pain; it was nothing compared to the internal burning feeling of shame. He didn’t understand anymore how many hands were roaming on his body caressing, pinching, squeezing and scratching. 

“Your skin is so soft, like a girl’s,” someone said licking his neck and shoulder. 

“Maybe we should start already, I’m hard as fuck,” another voice added. 

“I’m fucking him first,” the third one said. 

Fernando shivered. They started to argue again about who should be the first but apparently reached an agreement, because one positioned himself behind Fernando and another came to stand in front of him taking his dick out. 

Fernando whimpered. “Please don’t do this,” he said tearfully, “Please, let me go.” 

The only answer was someone’s finger in his ass. 

Fernando cried out. “Fuck, please stop. It hurts so much. Please, don’t.” 

“Yeah right, beg, pretty boy, I want to hear you beg.” 

Fernando wanted to die. The finger was slowly making its way through the rings of muscles and soon a second one was added. Fernando tried to escape from the steel grip on his waist but the man standing in front of him yanked at his hair painfully and pulled his head up. 

“Open your mouth, pretty boy,” he said, “Time to suck my dick.” 

Fernando looked horrified at his half-hard member and shook his head. 

“I’m going to do it anyway, so you’d better not to piss me off.” 

Fernando shut his eyes tight wishing it all would disappear. Please, just please, wouldn’t someone do something? Suddenly the fingers in his ass were gone. Oh god, no, please, please don’t let it happen. Fernando’s whole body tensed waiting for the inevitable, but nothing happened. Well, something happened, but Fernando heard only the sound of his blood in his ears. All of a sudden the knee of the man standing in front of him connected with Fernando’s temple and he saw no more. 

 

 **Gerard** was shocked for a second at the sight in front of him like the rest of his teammates. And who could blame him? Fernando Torres was on his hands and knees, half-naked, shivering and whimpering as a group of fucking drunkards was… Gerard didn’t even want to think what they were doing to him. 

As soon as the initial shock wore out, he lunged forward and punched one of the bastards who wanted to thrust his fucking dick into Fernando’s mouth. The asshole staggered and hit Fernando’s head with his knee. Fernando groaned softly and fell down. When Gerard leaned to see what had happened to him, someone punched him in the nose. Gerard fell the blood trickling on his lips but still attacked delivering blows everywhere he could. He saw Cesc strangling someone next to him and smiled despite the circumstances. Santi was shaking his fists and once almost hit Gerard. 

The drunkards were only seven or eight, so they quickly overpowered them and they fled towards the darkness. Gerard wanted to run after them, but decided against it. They had more pressing matters now, like Fernando Torres lying naked and unconscious on the pavement. Sergio sat next to him, gently pulled up his underwear and pants and shook him slightly, whispering something. 

 

 **Sergio** blinked fast not to allow the tears to drop. It was his fault Nando was in this state. He hadn’t even wanted to come. Sergio had practically forced him. “Please, Nando, wake up,” he begged. 

Fernando groaned and started opening his eyes slowly. Then he suddenly jerked and crawled away quickly from Sergio’s embrace. “No,” he whispered, “Please don’t.” 

Sergio tried to reach to him but Fernando slapped his hand away trembling violently. 

“Hey, Nando, it’s me. It’s Sergio. You’re safe now. It’s over. We’re here,” Sergio said gently until Fernando calmed down and looked around. 

“Serg?” he breathed. 

“Yes, it’s me. Can you stand? Come on, I’ll help you.” Sergio took Fernando’s hands and pulled him to his feet. 

As soon as he was standing Fernando clung to Sergio’s jacket so hard as if his life depended on it. He put his forehead on Sergio’s shoulder not letting go of his jacket. His breathing was coming out ragged and uneven and it was tickling Sergio’s neck. They stood like that for a minute: Sergio caressing the back of Fernando’s head with one hand, the other wrapped around his waist, and Fernando clinging so hard on Sergio’s jacket he could make holes in it, head in the crook of Sergio’s neck. He was shivering slightly and Pepe took his jacket from the floor, shook the dust off it and put it on Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando let go of Sergio reluctantly and looked around. He smiled weakly at his teammates’ worried faces and whispered _thank you_ before sitting in the car Xabi had driven there. 

 

 **Fernando and Sergio** were so worn out, they both fell asleep immediately. Soon Fernando started tossing in his sleep, mumbling something pitifully. He woke up with a start and felt tears flowing down his eyes. He didn’t understand where he was at first and struggled violently against the strong arms that wrapped around him. 

“Shh, Nando, it’s me,” he heard a familiar voice. 

Fernando stopped fighting at the sound of Sergio’s voice and hugged him tightly pulling closer. 

“Shh, Niño, it was just a dream, just a stupid nightmare.” 

Fernando nodded but still couldn’t stop shivering. Sergio rubbed calming circles on his back. 

“I’m just so…” Fernando’s voice broke. He gulped and went on, “I’m so grateful to all of you, Sese. If you hadn’t come, I don’t what would…” He trailed off again. 

“Nando, we did what you would have done for me, for anyone of us. Look at me, please.” 

Fernando looked into his eyes. Under the moonlight coming from the window his blond hair seemed almost silver and the unshed tears made his eyes appear even bigger. Sergio smiled warmly and his smile infected Fernando. “I just want you to know, Niño,” Sergio said holding his hand, “We’ll always be there for you. I’ll always be there for you.” 

“I know,” Fernando smiled. 

The nightmare was over now.


End file.
